by Jeff Inlo
The sorcerer took the opportunity to scan the entire reaches of his sanctuary. He was free of the delver and believed he had Ryson Acumen at his mercy, but he remained wary of the wizard. He could not believe that Enin would allow the delver to be annihilated, which was exactly what Ansas planned to do. He looked over to the wizard, but saw that Enin made no move to interfere.
Holli realized the full danger of the moment. She attempted to act. She pulled the bow from her shoulder and was about to take an arrow from her quiver when she felt Enin's hand on her back.
"There is no need for that," Enin whispered.
"You are going to stop this?" the elf questioned.
"I couldn't stop it if I wanted to," the wizard revealed, "but I assure you, Ryson is in no danger."
Holli couldn't understand. To her, the delver's peril was clear.
"No danger? The sorcerer remains out of reach and can dispose of Ryson at will."
"No, he can't. Dzeb was right. Ansas no longer casts ebony magic. The power within him cannot harm Ryson any more than it can harm the cliff behemoth… and as Dzeb stated, cliff behemoths do not lie."
"What should we do?"
"Allow Ryson to save his wife."
And that was exactly what the delver intended to do. He had made a mistake and allowed the sorcerer to connive his way from the delver's hold. Ryson was at a clear disadvantage, but he would not fail Linda.
With a delver's quick eye, he considered his surroundings. Danger lurked overhead and on the ground to his right. Though Ansas was the main threat, he could not discount a possible attack from the other three magic casters that had sided with the sorcerer. They were all dangerous, but none of them could match his speed, and just as he had always done, he prepared to use it to survive.
Ansas, however, announced his own truth.
"You've earned your death, delver. I would have made it quick, but you seemed to take too much pleasure in striking me. You almost had me, and if you weren't so weak, you might have actually defeated me. If it gives you comfort, you can take that to your grave, but the last thing I want you to remember is that your wife is mine to use as I please."
Ansas didn't even bother to lift his arms, as if to prove he could cast a spell of devastation on sheer will alone. A shadowy circle formed around him and then slowly drifted down his body. Once the ring of dark magic broke free of the sorcerer, it floated toward Ryson Acumen.
"I know you think you can dodge this," Ansas declared, "but you can't. You have no where to run and it will follow you wherever you go. You can leap off the ledge, and if you somehow survive the fall, it will still find you. When it does, it will engulf you and slowly suffocate you. You won't die quickly, not by any means. Each breath you take will grow smaller and smaller. You will struggle but remain conscious. Your head will pound and your chest will burn. Even as you try to run from your own death-which the magic will make you want to do-you will realize you can't escape. That won't stop you. You will be a delver to the end, and you will run and run even as you take your last shallow breath. That is what will kill you."
Ryson listened to every word, and though the last thing he wished to do was submit to the sorcerer, he could not deny the fear that began to reach its way deep into his spirit. To any delver, it was a horrible end, but one he had no intention of meeting. He had outraced death before, he would do so again. He prepared himself, thought of Linda, and almost broke into a delver run. Only the voice of the cliff behemoth held him in place.
"It can't hurt you," Dzeb announced with a gentle voice. "Let it strike you."
Ryson was astounded. He couldn't even voice his surprise, but his expression revealed it when he looked toward the giant.
"You know that there is magic within you," Dzeb continued, "but there is also something more. It was never your sword or the delver magic that allowed you to persevere. It was the spirit within you, a spirit that is blessed by Godson."
Ryson didn't move, but he faced doubt. He did not live by the same faith as the cliff behemoth. He lived by the grace of being a delver, always depending on his senses and his speed.
Still, he could not discount a simple truth. In all of his trials, he never believed he was alone. Even upon that plateau, he was surrounded by friends, friends he knew would not betray him. Yet all of them stood solemnly by, not unwilling to offer assistance, but apparently deeming it unnecessary; even as a cruel and imminent death hung over him.
Holli did not move to aid him, nor did Enin. He would have trusted both of them with his life. Certainly both had the power to help in some way, and yet they made no attempt. He did not believe they would let him perish so callously. He could not accept that… would not accept it.
His last glance fell upon Linda. He understood her lack of concern. Arasaps had invaded her body and mind, placed themselves in a position to feed off the spell residue forced into her by Ansas' scheming. Their presence deadened her emotions and left her a shell of her previous self.
They had been through so much together. She accepted him as a delver and he allowed her to become the anchor for his heart. They met just when the magic returned to the land, and they had survived its influence over Uton… together.
Right before the shadow of magic encased him, Ryson remembered Enin's words.
Think about saving Linda.
That was what the wizard instructed. It wasn't about defeating the sorcerer. It was about helping his wife, but the direct path was not open to him. Linda's body had been infiltrated by creatures of no real substance, and the delver had no way to reach into Linda and pull them out. The arasaps were beyond his grasp.
Only Ansas had a connection to the creatures, for he had placed his dark energy in them before they entered Linda's magically immune body. If Ryson could just find some way to force the sorcerer to pull upon that magical connection, Linda would be saved. But how could he overcome Ansas' control over the magic? He couldn't.
And yet, Ryson began to realize that there was a reason for him to be on that plateau. He was a delver, and despite the difficulties and strains it caused with his wife, he would always be a delver.
In facing Ansas, he didn't have to discount his senses. He could use them, but he had to use all of them. All around him, there was something beyond what he could see, smell, and hear. There was something he could touch… not with his fingers, but something he could feel with his spirit. Once he acknowledged it, he could sense it in other ways as well. He could hear the comforting words of truth if he listened hard enough. He could see his hope for salvation in the faces of those around him, see it in the eyes of the cliff behemoth and even in the expressionless gaze of his wife.
There was a greater force at work, something trying to guide him… something larger than the magic, and it had always been with him. It was inside him, but it was also an external force that worked its own will to help guide those that would heed the call. Yes, there was strength within him, power in being a delver, but he could never dismiss where that strength came from, for that was Ansas' mistake.
And just as Ansas' dark ring of death fell upon him, enveloped him fully prepared to carry out the sorcerer's will, Ryson finally understood what he had to do. He couldn't explain it; it would be like describing what an apple taste like.
He accepted the cliff behemoth's words. He believed the magical shadow could not harm him. He accepted it on faith… and with the belief that if he could not be hurt, then Linda would be saved, for that was the ultimate truth.
Ryson immediately felt Ansas' conceit spilling across his spirit. It saddened him. Every ounce of the energy was empty, devoid of anything beyond the sorcerer's misguided delusion of his own greatness. There was nothing else-no faith, no belief in anything beyond the sorcerer's own abilities.
Ryson didn't try to redirect the magic and he didn't attempt to forcibly place his own will into the energy. Actually, it was just the opposite. He refused to struggle against the darkness that surrounded him. He just peered into it without
fear. He asked for nothing from the shadow, and gave it nothing in return. He simply waited for it to pass, as he knew it would.
Ansas' spell of death brought no such suffering to the delver, an outcome the sorcerer could not comprehend. Floating in the gray sky above the lifeless plateau, he raged against the failure. Ansas' face twisted into a mass of disbelieving resentment as he tried to force his will upon the shadow of power which he himself set upon the land.
As if to revolt against its creator, the dark shroud lifted itself up and off of the delver and drifted to an empty spot near the center of the high plain. It swirled into a larger oval and an even darker shadow. It pulsated with a growing power of its own and soon appeared like a shallow tunnel with no end.
Throwing off waves of dark magic, the mysterious oval linked with every shred of Ansas' energy. Though the magic could not pierce Linda's immune body, it hovered about her like a rotating field of determined force and it pulled at the dark substance trapped within her. It grabbed the remnants placed into the arasaps and removed the energy from their very essence.
Unwilling to let go of the dark power that kept them nourished, the arasaps had no choice but to follow. The creatures oozed out of Linda's skin in a single wave, but quickly broke into four distinct entities that slid across the barren ground. They appeared lost and disoriented.
Linda collapsed the moment the last of the arasaps left her body. She fell into the hands of the cliff behemoth who held her in his massive arms.
With the arasaps out in the open, Enin did not hesitate and cast an immediate spell the monsters could not avoid. The wizard teleported the creatures back to the low lands of the dark realm, far away from them all.
The shadowed oval did not cease its taking with the arasaps. It sent a single spear of magic toward Shantree Wispon.
The elf elder, who was not immune to magic, stepped toward the shadowed flare. She allowed it to enter her body willingly and just as willingly allowed it to remove the mark of dark magic that Ansas had placed within her.
Setting its sights on the final hosts, the shadowy mass removed the share of dark energy from all three spell casters brought to the plateau, disregarding their screams of torment and pain. It left them crumpled and unconscious on the ground, just as Ansas had left Scheff.
With no remaining remnants to claim, it took hold of the power within the sorcerer himself. It ripped it all from him in one massive wave as if to chastise Ansas for his complete failure. In that same instant, the swirling mass pulled back upon the strands of magic it had released. It returned to a simple oval that hovered slightly above the ground, nothing more than a shadowed hole in reality.
Without magic, Ansas dropped from the sky. He remained conscious, but only barely. When his body struck the hard, unforgiving plateau, he groaned in pain.
Chapter 30
Ryson never saw the sorcerer fall. When the arasaps left Linda, he ran to her side, ignoring everything else around him. He stepped up directly to Dzeb, who carefully held Linda's unconscious body. The delver stroked her hair and touched her face, pleased to feel the warmth of her skin but still overwhelmed with concern over her condition.
"Linda? Can you hear me?"
She remained silent-still breathing, still alive-but unable to speak.
He watched her for long moments, hoping she would open her eyes and display that joyous emotion he longed for. He called to her again.
"Linda?"
It was Enin who responded after he dispatched the arasaps and then watched the shadowy oval reclaim its empty magic. Ansas had fallen, but the conflict was not quite over. While the wizard knew Ryson faced additional challenges, he willingly offered comfort to his friend.
"Don't worry, Ryson. She'll be fine. The arasaps are gone. There's nothing left of them inside of her, but it will take her a while before she regains consciousness."
Ryson wouldn't remove his gaze from his wife, but he needed to be certain.
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely. She will need rest, but she will be fine. You saved her."
That simple statement brought joy to Ryson's soul, but only for a moment. He remembered who was responsible for all his hardships, and the anger that he buried to survive the death spell surfaced once more. He swirled around to find the sorcerer. He saw Ansas lying in a heap upon the ground.
He clamped down on the sudden urge for vengeance, but only for a brief moment as he looked up to Dzeb.
"Take care of her."
"That is why I'm here."
Knowing that Linda would be safe, Ryson released the restraint that held him in place. In one quick rush, he dashed past the dark oval that continued to float just above the ground. Somehow, the delver understood the shifting mass had removed all of the sorcerer's magic. He bounded toward Ansas with a shadow of renewed anger covering his own heart. His feet stopped just short of the sorcerer's head. He looked down with contempt upon the prone body of his foe and realized the sorcerer had been injured. He didn't care. He grabbed Ansas roughly by the shirt and lifted him up off the ground.
Ansas groaned in pain. He was empty. His magical energy gone. The fall to the plateau broke several of his bones, and when Ryson twisted him around so they would be face to face, a jolt of unbelievable pain exploded across his body. He almost passed out, but the delver shook him hard. Another stab of pain kept him conscious.
"It's over," the delver growled. "The arasaps are gone and so is your magic. I don't know how I know, but I do. You have nothing left, do you? Do you?!"
Ansas couldn't answer. He just let out a moan.
Ryson grew weary of holding the sorcerer up and flung him to the ground. He remained over Ansas, his fury boiling in his head. He no longer saw a powerful spell caster reveling in the glory of his own self-ascribed godhood. He saw a pathetic insect willing to cause pain and suffering in some deluded quest for twisted perfection.
"What happened to your control of the magic?!" Ryson demanded. "What happened to your pure ebony power?!"
"I don't understand," Ansas mumbled.
"Do you think I care?! Do you remember what you said about my wife? Do you?!"
Ansas wouldn't answer, he couldn't. He was unable to stand, let alone think straight. He was beyond defeated. He was completely broken, his beliefs shattered. The energy that once swelled within him was yanked from his core like so many loose teeth. He was left wounded and powerless, unable to rise and incapable of casting the most insignificant spell. He was defenseless.
He once believed he could rise above all things, that there was no force in the land that could match his understanding of the ebony energy. He was above it all, an individual who broke the shackles of every limitation.
He didn't believe it was possible he could be defeated, but he was. To make the failure even more bitter, he had lost to a pathetic delver and he couldn't understand how.
Ryson did not care about the sorcerer's confusion. Ansas didn't deserve answers, he didn't deserve anything, save for swift retribution.
"I should kill you right now," Ryson snarled, "You deserve to die."
The delver pulled both war blades from the sheaths at his hips. The slightly curved blades were much shorter than the Sword of Decree, but they were also much sharper. With a swift swing, Ryson could remove the sorcerer's head with one strike.
Ansas cowered. Despite the pain erupting from each movement, he covered his head with his arms and tried to push himself away with short thrusts of his legs. He shrieked with each movement, but the threat of the war blades kept him retreating.
It was a laughable attempt. Ryson danced across the ground with barely an effort. He remained in constant striking distance as he considered the best way to end the sorcerer's life. He could slice his throat or pierce his heart. He could even slit open Ansas' belly and watch the sorcerer's organs spill out over the barren ground.
Ryson knew the war blades could kill. He had used them to kill before. He had once decimated an army of shags to protect the alg
ors in the Lacobian Desert. He didn't want to kill those shags, certainly not like he wanted to end Ansas' miserable existence, but he had no real choice.
No choice.
Ryson suddenly remembered arguing with Sy about killing the river rogues. He had said he wouldn't be a part of it because he felt there was a choice. Was that still his line in the sand? That one question held his hands from delivering the death strike. Did he have a choice at that moment? Did he ever have a choice?
Ansas didn't believe in the struggle between good and evil, but Ryson did. He had been placed in so many struggles, stood before so many enemies, but he always tried to hold to decency… and mercy. He thought of the goblins he could have killed, but never did… river rogues and other monsters as well. Then, he thought of the shags he didn't want to kill, but did so anyway. He thought he had to. It was an empty excuse. That thought opened a hole in his soul, a hole he didn't want to expand.
It seemed he had so little control over what happened to him. He didn't ask for Ansas to enter his life, but the sorcerer did so anyway. He didn't want to face river rogues and goblins, but they were thrust at him regardless. Struggling for control against what fate threw at him was futile. The only thing he could really control were the decisions he made, such as the one he faced at that very moment.
He wanted to kill Ansas, to exact revenge for everything the sorcerer had done to him… and to Linda. Ansas deserved to die, but in the light of truth, Ryson knew that the sorcerer was no longer a threat.
With that realization, the delver understood what that moment was about. It wasn't about revenge, or even justice. It wasn't even about what Ansas deserved. It was about what Ryson was willing to do. The delver had his beliefs; beliefs that guided him down every path of his life. If they meant anything, he would have to hold onto them, even when he didn't want to. He wouldn't abandon those beliefs in the face of a hollow sorcerer who believed in nothing more than his own superiority. Ansas' road led to emptiness, but the delver's beliefs, if he held to them, would guide him to much more.